<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Ghost of our Past by MrsFoxHeart</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095967">Ghost of our Past</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsFoxHeart/pseuds/MrsFoxHeart'>MrsFoxHeart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angry Philza Minecraft, Angry Technoblade, Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dead Wilbur Soot, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Major Character Undeath, Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse, Protective Philza Mineraft, SBI family dynamics, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, Very slight comfort dont expect too too much, sbi, sleepy bois inc - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:19:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095967</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsFoxHeart/pseuds/MrsFoxHeart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“W-wait- Techno there’s something you should know first-”</p><p>“Relax Tommy, I just wanna see if you did something different that lets you touch him,” Techno stated calmly. </p><p>“No- Techno please wait-!”</p><p>But it was too late for him. The warning died in Tommy’s mouth as Techno’s hand phased through him. A silence fell between the trio. Ghostbur looked confused, Techno looked horrified, and Tommy..he looked devastated. Seeing the pain on his brothers’ faces and knowing that he was the cause of it made his heart ache dreadfully. He could feel what were supposed to be tears well up in his eyes as Techno tried to grab his arm again. And again. And again, as if he could grab onto him if he just tried hard enough. As if what he was seeing wasn’t real and just some sick, twisted dream he was trapped in. Unfortunately for him, the universe was rarely so kind. “Technoblade..I'm dead.”</p><p>[Or: TommyInnit's ghost is found in the nether by Big Bro Techno and lots of angst ensues.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>439</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>TW: Mentions of death</p><p>Techno leaves the comfort of his own home to offer his little brother a place amongst the ranks of the Antarctic Empire in hopes of providing him refuge after all his time spent in exile. What he finds is worse than he could have ever expected.</p><p>(YOO IM BACK WITH ANOTHER MOTHERFUCKIN FIC FOR Y'ALL!!! So sorry for the wait after my last work!! I was trying to finish this fic up before posting it, but I felt bad for just disappearing so this time I'll post it as I come out with new chapters. I have 3 written out fully so far, they just need some editing. I started writing this when Tommy was still in exile so this is pretty old, but I love the idea so here I go anyways!! Fuck canon, I do what I want!/lh. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!!)</p><p>Word Count: 2,283</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A breeze flowed gently through the trees, shaking the leaves as it went by. Animals walked through the forest quietly, munching on the grass that grew on the undisturbed forest floor. Mobs that lurked beneath the ground in forgotten mines and dark caves waited for their next victim. Absolute silence throughout the campsite that lay seemingly untouched. It felt unnatural, like something was missing from the site. </span>
  <span>Where were the loud swears that were usually shouted at all who entered? Where was the infectious laughter that was supposed to ring out when poor passerby's fell into some poorly constructed trap? Where was the life that was supposed to be flowing through the campsite? Where was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All these thoughts ran through Technoblade’s mind (accompanied by other murmurs of the same nature from the voices in his head - or chat as he had decided to refer to them as) as he dismounted his prized horse, tying him to a gate post he had placed down and pet his snout gently. He let out a sigh and made his way over to the tent stationed by the edge of the grasslands before transitioning into a beach (which was littered with sad, deteriorating decorations). Empty. It looked like it hadn't been occupied in a few days really, bed still messy and undone. The chests looked weathered down from being exposed to the elements and going unrepaired. Basically: all of these were a bad sign.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He went to look in Logstedshire, hoping to find some clue as to where Tommy could be. Maybe he could find his brother's ghost and ask him instead. Much to Techno's dismay, all that was there was a strange mushroom cow, a log donned “prime log” by a sign beside it, and an empty clay house. Nothing to show anyone had been there in a very long time. He frowned and shook his head, heading back out to look around again and ignoring the small pit of uneasiness forming in his stomach. There wasn't anywhere else Techno could think of. Well, there was one other place..</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned to the portal that stood there ominously, practically begging for attention. He looked to Carl, making sure he was safe from any possible mobs randomly spawning, then stepped into the portal. He closed his eyes as the swirls of purple swarmed his vision for a few seconds before opening his eyes again to see that he had appeared in the nether. He stepped down onto the hot ground before looking around for any sign of his missing brother. He hadn't really thought this part through, just assuming he would see Tommy nearby. But it couldn't be that easy..right? The nether extended out for miles and miles, probably infinitely. Techno found that finding his brother was turning out to be more annoying than he had thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Technoblade walked along the edge of the precipice that led him towards the portal hub, thinking Tommy might be hanging around there and moping again. As he continued to walk, he looked around. Nothing much had changed. There were a few blocks in place to make a ledge of sorts that had been built out and seemingly forgotten. It just stopped abruptly. He paid no mind to it as he continued scanning for his brother.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped when he heard soft murmurs coming from behind a corner right before the beginning of the path to the hub. The voice sounded familiar. It was soft and echo-y. There was only one person whose voice had that effect. Techno changed directions and went towards the voice instead, following to its source. “Hey Ghostbur, have you seen Tommy? Phil wants me to check on the gremlin again-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno stopped dead in his tracks when he rounded the corner. There, talking to a very giddy looking Ghostbur, was Tommy Fucking Innit. That turned out to be easier than he had thought. He was glad that he had taken the time to talk to Ghostbur now. “There ya are. The one time I tried visiting you and you weren't even there for me to talk to,” he teased. When he came closer to the two, Tommy seemed to try and hide behind Ghostbur. That had seemed a little strange, but Techno had thought nothing of it other than Tommy maybe not expecting visitors yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His twin turned to him and smiled brightly. “Hello Techno! Look! I found Tommy!” he turned to him, his higher pitched voice exuding excitement. “And look! Look what I can do!!” he turned around to Tommy and grabbed his hand despite the other's stutter-y protests. He held their hands up, pulling Tommy out into Techno’s line of sight. He looked odd. He looked a little..lifeless. But maybe that was just because he had been in the nether for a while. That wasn't what was important right now though. What mattered was: Ghostbur could actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tommy</span>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno looked at them both with wide eyes. “I thought you couldn't touch other people Ghostbur, when did this happen? And how?” He got closer to examine their hands and inspect it further. Before he could get a proper look, Tommy yanked his arm away and backed up. The younger boy looked terrified, practically trembling in fear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“W-wait- Techno there’s something you should know first-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Relax Tommy, I just wanna see if you did something different that lets you touch him,” Techno stated calmly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No- Techno please wait-!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was too late for him. The warning died in Tommy’s mouth as Techno’s hand phased through him. A silence fell between the trio. Ghostbur looked confused, Techno looked horrified, and Tommy..he looked devastated. Seeing the pain on his brothers’ faces and knowing that he was the cause of it made his heart ache dreadfully. He could feel what were supposed to be tears well up in his eyes as Techno tried to grab his arm again. And again. And again, as if he could grab onto him if he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard enough. As if what he was seeing wasn’t real and just some sick, twisted dream he was trapped in. Unfortunately for him, the universe was rarely so kind. “Technoblade..I'm <em>dead</em></span>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ghostbur didn't seem to be able to process it. “You- you can't be dead. No no, Tommy you're supposed to be alive. You- You’re Tommy Innit! The boy who fought against all odds and always found a way to bounce back! You can’t die!!” He grew increasingly more panicked as he continued speaking. “No- I don't like this game. This isn't fun at all!” With that, Ghostbur ran away from the two and disappeared from sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With him gone, Tommy was forced to focus on Technoblade. He looked at him warily, holding onto his own arm. The same arm that Techno was currently staring at. The one that his hand had passed through. The silence grew nearly suffocating before Techno spoke up again. “How?” his voice sounded unstable. Tommy had never heard his brother's voice so shaky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno couldn't help feel but feel responsible for this. His little brother, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>, before he even had the chance to live a proper life. He never had the chance to be a kid, life riddled with wars he should never have been a part of. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>sixteen</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And now he was fucking </span>
  <b>dead</b>
  <span>. He’ll never be able to hug his brother again. He couldn't bother Technoblade anymore. He couldn't ask to spar with him or tackle him out in the snow. Tommy’s soul may be there in front of him, but his brother was gone. He was the lone survivor of Philza’s sons. ‘<em>What if he’s like Wil? What if he just runs away like Wilbur?</em>’ Chat rushed in to try and defend Techno's decisions, but it fell upon death ears, clogged with grief and regret.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno hadn't realized he had started crying until he felt a sob trying to claw its way out of his throat. He swallowed the massive lump in his throat, uncaring if more tears fell. If he ignored them, maybe they would go unnoticed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing Technoblade so vulnerable, so sad and devastated, was terrifying. It was so unnatural. Tommy always believed his older brother was the strongest among them. The unbreakable. The untouchable. Had his death really affected him that much? Why? Tommy believed his life to be but a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things. It didn't matter really. Tommy didn't matter. At least, he had thought so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After realizing he hadn't answered Techno’s question, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um..I don't- I don't actually remember. I just..woke up in the nether. Ghostbur found me when I was trying to go back to Logstedshire. He tried to grab me and when he did I sort of..knew. I just had a feeling,” he explained with a shrug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno let out a heavy sigh, nodding a bit. He seemed to stew in his own thoughts for a bit, thinking about how he should handle this. When he remembered Phil still waiting for him to bring Tommy back, he grimaced at the thought of returning with the ghost of his brother instead. As much as he knew it would hurt Phil, he knew that he needed to know about this. “Right. Look, I know this is probably a lot. You remember who Phil is right?” With a nod providing confirmation from Tommy, Techno continued. “Good. We need to go see him. He’ll want to talk to you. He’s been pretty worried about you..for good reason too I guess.” He frowned at the last part and turned away from Tommy before he could spiral any further. “Just follow me okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy muttered a quiet “Alright” as he followed Technoblade back through the forest. He remembered everything up until the moment he died. The worst memories he had though, the ones where he was hurt by the ones he loved and called friends, the ones where he felt the familiar sting of betrayal and hurt..those memories were painfully clear in his mind. When he thought about Philza though, he could feel faint warmth growing in his chest. He didn't have many bad memories of his father. At least he had thought so. There were times where he felt bitterness towards his brothers, envious of the attention they received from him with Wilbur showcasing his amazing musical abilities and Techno’s fierce fighting abilities. Tommy had no where near the amount of talent the other two had. In his eyes, he felt pretty damn lame in comparison. And sure, sometimes it felt as though Technoblade was favored over him and Wilbur sometimes, but his father really did try to give attention to the other boys as well. He must have.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, Philza was like a safe haven for Tommy. He had nothing bad associated with him. When the two hung around each other, there was always laughter and lots of smiles. Tommy remembered feeling a sense of pride when he managed to make the older gentleman smile or laugh. He was deep in thought when he saw Technoblade had stopped. He stopped as well and looked up at him from where his brother had mounted the horse. Carl, if he recalled correctly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, let's get going. Can you float or do we have to go slow?” he questioned as he held onto the reigns of his horse. Tommy did a little hop, gesturing to how he was floating above the ground slightly. “Allllright, that answers that. Think you can keep up?” That made Tommy smile a bit. While the situation may have been bleak, this seemed to ignite a small part of who Tommy was before the exile. Before he..died. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“'Course I can! The better question is can you Big Man?” Tommy smirked and started floating in a random direction. He could hear Techno let out a huff (his version of a laugh).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't think I wanna keep up, seeing as you're headin in the wrong direction </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” That had Tommy sort of skid to a stop. He floated over to Techno and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Techno rolled his eyes and used his leg to get Carl to set off in a medium paced gallop. “Get movin' slow poke!” he called back, snickering a bit when he heard Tommy let out an undignified squawk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s cheating! Get back here bitch, I demand a restart!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes the situation was bad. It was devastating and if Techno dwelled on it for too long, he was sure that he would drown under the weight of his own guilt and grief combined. But Tommy was there. And he was smiling and laughing. They needed this. Just this one, tiny moment where they could be happy. So what if Techno’s smile fell multiple times along the way? So what if Tommy’s laughter sounded forced at times? They were processing in their own ways. They could handle it later, when they had their father to help them. To guide them through their grief. To be a light in the dark they could hold onto. For now, they just wanted to pretend. Pretend things were normal. Pretend that their family wasn't broken up by horrible events that took the lives of Philza’s sons. Pretend that Tommy was alive and that Techno wasn't currently fighting the onslaught of voices telling him to murder the person responsible for his brother's death. They just wanted to pretend that for a moment, just one moment, that things were okay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, as with all good things, their little game of pretend would eventually have to come to an end.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Techno and Tommy get to le cabin and Techno gets some time to take things in before Dadza gets home.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: referenced death, reference to an almost breakdown (I think it could be classified as that, I'm not 100% sure)</p>
<p>New chapter Pog? Lets go?!? Needed a day off from school so here I am, editing a new chapter for Le GOOP :D !!<br/>Enough of that now, hope you enjoy the chapter!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time the party of two had arrived at the small cottage, their laughter had died out. The time for them to play pretend was over and it was time to accept the harshness of reality. Techno dismounted Carl and led him into his stall which was right outside the bottom floor. He stepped out of the pen, petting Carl’s nose gently. When Carl nuzzled his hand in turn, he took it as a sign of comfort. It helped to ground himself before having to head into his actual house. He took in a gulp of icy air then turned to the staircase that led up to the front door. For some reason, the door felt more intimidating, knowing the news he would be delivering to Philza concerning his youngest son.</p>
<p>He gestured for Tommy to follow him up, approaching  the door and opening it slowly. Once they were both inside, he shut the door and cut the cold air off from rushing into the house any longer. Techno took off his cape and hung it on a hook on the wall. The smallest amount of tension left his shoulders as he felt the warmth of the house seep into his skin, but it was barely noticeable. He stood still, listening for the familiar sound of Philza’s snow boots pacing in the room above or maybe for the muffled hums that would sound from below when Phil was trading with villagers. Nothing so far.</p>
<p>As Techno stepped into the dining room, he noticed the note left for him on the table. It read:</p>
<p>
  <span class="u"> Went hunting, I’ll be back for dinner later. Don’t forget to check on the turtles and get the honey from the bee farm! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u"> -Dadza :D </span>
</p>
<p>Techno let out a soft huff for a laugh, putting the note back down. He guessed that just meant that he would have more time to prepare to give Philza the news. He just had to make sure that Tommy wasn’t the first person to greet him. He turned to Tommy, finding that he was now standing firmly on the floor of the house. It looked like he could only touch inanimate objects just like Ghostbur. He also noticed that he looked more transparent than he had in the nether. It threw him off and honestly, it just made him sad that he could no longer interact with him normally. He couldn't spar with him, nor could he pull him into the hug that he wished he could pull his brother into. He shook those thoughts from his head, not yet ready to think about that.</p>
<p>“So, this is where Phil and I live. There isn't much to look at,” he started, feeling the need to fill the silence, “but we manage. Phil was actually thinking about expanding it since it’s startin to get cramped with the chests. The top room is mine, but it also has the enchanting table so if you need to use it just ask or knock. This is the main room with the kitchen and dining room, there's a couple brewing stands too. Bottom floor is the storage room with all the chests. Then the basement with Henry, Fool, and Hubert. They're chill. Then the dungeon is below that with all the villagers we trade with. Not much, but it’s what we got for now. Questions?”</p>
<p>After a small pause, his brother asked, “Where does Phil sleep?” Tommy walked around the area and opened chests around the area. He remembered him doing that when he was alive very often. A habit he picked up from life in that small cabin they once called home, back when they were just kids with Philza being the only adult figure in their lives. Different times back then.</p>
<p>“He doesn't sleep here yet. He still goes from here to L’Manburg to keep an eye on things over there. I’m not exactly allowed over there cause of..ya know.” he looked to the ground, expecting Tommy to throw some harsh words his way. He braced himself for the familiar barrage of razor sharp words that cut him deep with guilt. When nothing came, Techno turned to see what had prevented the onslaught of insults. Tommy stared out the window with a faraway look in his eyes and simply hummed in response. He looked tired. More tired than he had looked before. “Tommy?” It was worrying how quickly Tommy’s mood had shifted. He didn't know if that was something to do with being a ghost or if this was something else entirely. Basing it off of what he had seen from Ghostbur, it didn't seem to be something normal. Then again, what did he know? He wasn't a ghost expert.</p>
<p>“Tommy.” he tried snapping Tommy out of whatever had come over him. He wanted to ask him a few things...and this was really starting to worry about him. When nothing worked, he grabbed one of the enchanted books in his chest and let it fall down on the table loudly. That seemed to do the trick, seeing Tommy flinch a bit before looking at Technoblade again. His eyes seemed to be much clearer as well, albeit a little wide with panic. ”You good man? You kind of zoned out for a sec.” The thinly veiled concern laced in Techno’s voice apparently didn't go noticed as Tommy smiled to him nervously, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.</p>
<p>“Oh, right. Sorry big man, I was just, erm..thinking. What were you saying again?” Now, Techno was no detective, but he did know his brother. He grew up with him, how could he not? He knew there was something that Tommy wasn’t telling him. He was fidgeting more and glanced around the room nervously. The difference was, this was usually paired with rambling and lots of hand waving as Tommy would usually try changing the subject and move forward. There was no bright and loud energy radiating from him, just the lost and nervous energy as a poor replacement. Still, he had no intention of scaring Tommy away or risk having him close up by pushing further. He’d save his questions for later.</p>
<p>“Nothing,” he replied coolly. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to help me out with some chores.” Techno could ask him about his memories later. When Phil was around to help filter the question he had and turn it into something catered for the (more than likely) traumatized boy. He went and grabbed a few bottles from his chest and offered them to Tommy as he continued speaking. “I have a bee farm on the side of the house and I haven't really gathered the honey from it in a while. I was wonderin if you might wanna help me get the honey in these bottles. Then we could make honey blocks and move onto the turtles.”</p>
<p>Tommy seemed to brighten up at the mention of the animals. He smiled and took the glass bottles from Techno’s hand. “Sure I'll help the old man with his chores,” he snickered as he put the glass in his inventory. Techno had to admit that seeing Tommy’s slight boost in energy was refreshing, though it wasn’t nearly as much as before, it was better than what he had seen earlier.</p>
<p>Technoblade rolled his eyes at his brother’s playful jest and waved him off. “Whatever Toms. Just get the honey and make it into the honey blocks alright?” With a firm nod and a mock salute from Tommy, he walked outside with a newfound confidence.</p>
<p>Techno watched Tommy from his window, just keeping his eye on his brother. He let his shoulders slump and rested his weight on his hands as he gripped the window sill. The weight of his brother’s death finally weighed down on him. Grief set in all at once as he held onto the window sill, resting all his weight on it. There were only a few moments in Technoblade’s life that had made him feel as if the oxygen had been stripped from his lungs. A pain that started as a small pinprick in his heart spread and engulfed his entire chest. He let himself slowly fall to his knees, clinging onto the sill still. It was his only anchor amongst the waves of emotions flooding through him. There was a reason he never let them out. It was always an overwhelming feeling. The voices in his head kicked in tenfold, drowning out any other sound from his brain.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Technosad </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Blood for the Blood God </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Protect Tommy, be a good brother </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Technobro, Technokill, Technofeels </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> GhostInnit </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> EEEEEEEE </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> L </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Bad Bro, ur fault </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Booooooo </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Not ur fault! Be happy! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Kill Dream  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> FUck Dream up </em>
</p>
<p><em> kill kill kill kilL KilL kIlL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL<strong> KILL KILL KILL KILLL KILL </strong></em><strong> <em>KILL HIM</em> </strong>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Techno held his head as they bombarded him in praise, comfort, blame, and sometimes random letters or orders to do something completely unrelated. It hadn’t been this bad since he was a kid who didn't know what was happening to him. Before he learned to control them and use them to his advantage. He forced the voices to quiet, groaning in pain as the voices were replaced by a strong migraine. He slowly raised his head and looked around the room to get a hold on his surroundings. He needed to keep a handle on himself. The bottle in which his emotions had been bottled up in had broken and this was the result. Now, they resided in a makeshift box in the meantime, all tattered and worn down. He couldn't break now. Not when he had to be there for Tommy, alone. He took in a sharp breath then stood up slowly, ignoring the wobble in his knees and the burning in his throat. And if his eyes had become more glossy, then it was no one’s business but his own.</p>
<p>Techno made his way to the kitchen and started on some food. Wi- <em> Ghostbur </em> liked to eat sometimes. Maybe Tommy would too. Philza would definitely be hungry whenever he decided to come home from the hunt. It would also help him do something with his hands, keep him busy and quiet the constant buzz in the back of his head. He started on a simple stew, using steak potatoes, and a small amount of mushroom. It was simple and repetitive, just cutting the food and checking on the water filled with minimal spices. He looked up when he heard the door open and close, no footsteps sounding afterwards. Tommy had finished collecting honey it seemed.</p>
<p>“I’m backkk! What now Technoooooo?” Definitely Tommy. He walked over to collect the honey from Tommy’s inventory so that he could file it away in his chest.</p>
<p>“Next you’ll visit the turtle farm I have. Just make sure they're alive and fed. Maybe check the chests at the bottom of the wall there if water doesn't hurt you, you’ll know it when you see it. Here.” He gave Tommy a little paper with directions to the farm (which existed because Ghostbur insisted on helping and usually got lost on the way to the farm). “Got it?” With yet another nod and salute, Tommy was off again. He would be fine. Just a quick trip wouldn't hurt. It also gave him time to finish the stew. </p>
<p>It was around fifteen minutes before he heard two hard knocks on the wooden door before it opened. Light footsteps were heard entering the house, then the flutter of feathered wings after the door was closed. “Hey Techno, I’m back!” there was the thump of a bag on the floor before Philza came into Techno’s field of view. He gave him a wave and the classic “hullooo” greeting of his. Philza looked at the stew Techno had been making and chuckled. “You made stew? I'm glad to see that you haven’t burned the house down while I was away.” Techno rolled his eyes at his jest and offered him a bowl of the stew, but made no comment. Phil raised an eyebrow and took the bowl warily. “You alright mate? You're being extra quiet today.”</p>
<p>Techno looked at his father, feeling unsure about how to put this. He let out a heavy sigh and gestured to the kitchen table. “Phil, I think you should be sitting down for this.” Philza stood still for a minute. Techno knew this would look odd coming from him, but he really needed to think of how he would be delivering such world shattering news. He sat down at the table himself, watching as Philza slowly walked over to sit across from him. He could see Philza’s wings twitch here and there, a sign that Philza felt uneasy.</p>
<p>“Alright, I’m sitting down. What did you wanna talk about?” He made no move to eat. Technoblade hated this. He didn't want to be the reason his father would look so sad. He didn't want to be the one to drive the sword through his father’s heart like his father had been forced to do to his other son, whose ghost remains as a painful reminder for him every day. And now there would be another reminder, always there to remind Techno of his failures as a brother. </p>
<p>He took a steadying breath and looked down at his hands as he spoke, slowly and carefully. “It’s about Tommy. I went to check on him today,” he started. He could see his hands starting to shake, but he had to power through it. He needed to let Phil know. Phil had the right to know. “He wasn't at his campsite, so I looked for him in the Nether. When I found him..he was different. And..and when I went to touch him….my hand went through him.” He clenched his hands tightly. “Phil, Tommy’s-..Tommy’s dead.” His voice cracked as he finally said it out loud. He looked up to meet Philza’s eyes, feeling his own heart break in two when he saw Philza staring at him in shock. His eyes said it all. Those were the eyes of a man who had lost so, so much. He lost yet another son. His small family had gotten even smaller. Techno was all that he had left now. It was just the two of them now.</p>
<p>Philza looked at the bowl of stew on the table, hair falling over his eyes to hide them. But nothing could hide the way Philza’s shoulders trembled slightly and the tears that fell from his eyes. It was a heartbreaking sight. Seeing his father break. Techno stood up and walked over to him, standing next to him. He stood there, doing nothing for a few seconds before putting a hand on his shoulder as a way to show he was there for him. There was a deafening, yet impossibly saddening, silence that settled over them. Nothing was said for a while. It was impossible to know how long they had stood in silence, but when it was broken, it took Techno by surprise. “Who?” Philza said, low and threatening. He looked up at Techno with eyes that had a slight glow to them, filled with sheer fury. It was enough to intimidate Technoblade himself.</p>
<p>
  <b> <em>“Who killed my son?”</em> </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oooo angry Philza oh nooo. Vv scary no? Hope you guys are enjoying this...series? Fic? Idk what to call it. Oh whale *shrugs*</p>
<p>Kudos and comments are much appreciated!! Always love looking at comments and getting feedbacks on my writings. Til the next chapter lovelies!!</p>
<p>Word Count: 2,526</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Philza grieves his son's death with Technoblade. Philza thinks about his past mistakes.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: lots of self blame, bit of a breakdown for Philza, mention of scars and blood for a moment, </p>
<p>Another chapter done! Let's goooo!!! Currently in the process of moving so my writing is gonna be a bit delayed. Oh whale, life is life and it aint gonna wait for ya, you know? Enough of that now, hope you enjoy!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Philza felt a cold numbness spread from his chest when he was given the news. It was like he was shutting down. His mind was trying to squash down the guilt and dread into nothingness before it consumed him, completely silencing the onslaught of voices that were trying to overcome him. It was a defense mechanism that was trying to preserve what was left of Philza’s sanity. The numbness almost won out. Almost. Had it not been for the burning embers of anger that Philza felt burning a hole through his chest, he surely would have drowned in the icy cold waters of his own grief. The embers soon grew with a fiery vengeance, suddenly breaking into a raging wildfire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“Who killed my son?”</em>
  </b>
  <span>  There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>anger</span>
  </em>
  <span> behind his voice, shaking with the pure emotion. Who had the </span>
  <em>
    <span>audacity</span>
  </em>
  <span> to kill his child? Who on this hell of a server had taken his boy’s last life? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> had they taken it? The boy had suffered so much already. He was dragged into a war at just 12, he had to go through a high stakes election only to </span>
  <em>
    <span>lose</span>
  </em>
  <span> to a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tyrant</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He watched as his older brother went insane and lost him in the end, right when they were about to get it all back. Everything that he had fought for, set alight before his very eyes by his own brothers. He was then forced to watch as Philza, his own father, killed the brother he had made a nation with. Even after the country had decided to rebuild and heal, his son still managed to find himself in some sort of trouble that resulted in him being exiled</span>
  <span> from the country he had given </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> up for. Phil may not have agreed with the country’s corrupt government, but  he could understand (in a way) why it was important to Tommy. His boy had literally died for that country time and time again. He would know, considering all the letters he had received from Wilbur over the course of the war. Wilbur had never explicitly said that Tommy lost his lives, but it was a message that had been hidden behind eloquent words laced with ugly truths that Wilbur felt no need to disclose to his father.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Philza didn't know how long he had sat there stewing in his own thoughts, staring holes into the floor with his glare. But apparently, it was long enough that the aforementioned boy had finished his task at the turtle farm. Philza didn't hear the opening and shutting of the front door. Didn't feel the sudden shift in temperature as it dropped. It was only when a transparent set of worn down shoes had suddenly come into his line of sight that he had registered another presence in the room standing right in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath caught in his throat as he looked up slowly, almost afraid of seeing what he obviously knew to be true. He still hope that it was a cruel joke. A mistake. A nightmare that he could wake up from so he could find himself back during a time when he and his sons lived in a cozy little cabin. With all </span>
  <em>
    <span>three</span>
  </em>
  <span> of his sons still alive and well. But alas, life was rarely so merciful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Philza’s eyes met dull blue ones, a mockery of what used to be a set of beautiful sky blue eyes, he knew that it was true . There stood before him was his translucent son, wringing his hands together nervously. He took in his form with a sad gaze, feeling every painful detail he noticed chip away more and more at his heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy wore a tattered and torn shirt that looked like it was caked in layers of dirt and blotches of faded blood. The end of his pants were torn too, both items of clothing seemed to be slightly singed, as if he had stood too close to a fire (or an explosion) at some point. He had deep bags under his eyes and his, admittedly quite long, hair fell in his face, the once golden locks now a dirtied version of that. His arms and hands had cuts and bruises littering them and the bandages around them were dirty and messily wrapped, as if they were done in a hurry. <em>What’s happened to you? What did they do to you my poor boy?</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence fell heavy between father and son. It felt like it lasted eons, the house falling still as if to give the two time to process. It was Tommy who broke the silence, voice soft as he fidgeted with his hands. “Heyyyy Phil..long time no see?” He gave a nervous smile to his father, shifting his non-existent weight awkwardly. Philza only nodded numbly as he took a step closer to his son, hesitating before reaching a hand out to him. When Philza’s hand passed through what </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have been his son's sturdy shoulder, it finally sunk in. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He couldn't </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>hold</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>, Tommy.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He couldn't hold his son close. He couldn't envelope him in a hug he so desperately needed. He couldn't run his hands through Tommy’s hair adoringly or let his son help him groom his feathers...because he was gone. He was really dead. And he couldn't bring him back. He had failed again, and now two of his sons were</span>
  <b>
    <em> dead.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Philza broke. He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms and wings around himself in an attempt to keep the pieces of himself together. The silence in the tundra surrounding the cabin was broken by a father’s heart wrenching cry of agony. No physical pain could ever match the pain of a father who has lost a second son. He was devastated. Destroyed. Shattered into a million pieces just like a mirror. Tears spilled onto the wooden floor as Philza mourned for the sons he had failed. He could feel Technoblade kneel beside him and envelope him in a hug, face pressed into his side where he could feel his clothes dampen. He turned to Technoblade and held onto him in a desperate attempt to ground himself. A rock to grab onto as the waves of grief and sadness crashed against him from all around. As Technoblade kept his face hidden from sight, a thought flitted across his mind momentarily. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At least I'm not alone.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two men lost at sea, nothing around for miles apart from each other. A pitiful sight truly, to see two world renowned warriors reduced to sobbing messes of raw emotion. Such was the power of grief. It had the power to bring down even the strongest of men and women. And right now, it had Philza and Technoblade in it’s dark and suffocating grip. It was like their lungs were filled with water. They barely had room to breathe between the sobs that wracked the bodies of the two men. Technoblade couldn't remember a time when he had felt so much at once. Even with Wilbur, he had shed a few tears before shoving all associated feelings so far down that they would never see the light of day. Technoblade was not an easy man to break, but losing yet another brother (who was so so young) had absolutely shattered him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Philza, a man who was wise with the years upon years of experience. He had watched civilizations bloom, Kingdoms fight bloody wars over trivial matters, and countless people that entered his life die. People came, people left, but eventually, they all always reached the end of their life. Philza had accepted that already, after all, such was the life of a man cursed with immortality. He had distanced himself as much as he could, trying as hard as he might to keep his poor heart from breaking any further as he watched his friends and loved ones age and die before him. He could do nothing to stop it, and so he had decided that enough was enough.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He had left for a small town on the outskirts of a small but prosperous town. It should have been easy to not care. </span>
    <span>If he had just stayed in that house and out of the inner parts of town..if he hadn't run out of materials that day..he wouldn't have caught the little boy with rich but wild brown hair and dark eyes full of wariness trying to pickpocket him. Maybe Wilbur would have been safer on the streets. Maybe he wouldn't have had to die at the hands of his own father. If he hadn't gone to that specific bastion, so abnormally large and well built for those brutes. If he hadn’t investigated further and seen the child, no older than his own at the time, covered from head to toe in blood that wasn't his own with wild, terrified eyes and a white-knuckle grip on a worn down iron sword with bodies littered around him...if he hadn't taken Technoblade home (and away from ruins of what had once been a cruel fighting arena that reeked of death), maybe he wouldn't have had to watch as the man looked brokenly at his brothers lone and forgotten grave (no flowers, no name engraved on the tombstone, no visitors for the “villain” in their country’s history books).</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <em>Then Tommy came. He was like the cherry on top of their little family sundae. Philza found him during one of the rainiest days of spring, curled into himself beside a dumpster in a dingy alleyway. He was sniffling and the look he gave Philza, who was standing under an umbrella with his classic black cloak with white diamonds along the bottom trim of it, was one he would never forget. He looked absolutely dreadful. All skin and bones, hair plastered to his forehead, sickly pale, and his eyes.. his eyes were full of determination and anger. Determination to live and anger keeping him alive out of pure spite it had seemed. Philza remembered leaning down, umbrella out to offer shelter from the rain and a hand extended in an offer for a place to stay the night, a warm smile gracing Philza’s face. When Tommy, after a great deal of convincing (who gave this homeless child the right to be that sassy?) took his hand, Philza would promise that as long as Tommy was with him, he would protect him against the dangers of the outside world. Oh how naïve Philza had been back then<b>.</b></em>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Philza couldn't help but think of all of the mistakes he had made raising his kids. His poor, poor children, forced to grow up much faster than they should have. He should have been more strict on Wilbur. He should have kept Techno from going to so many tournaments, then maybe he would have stayed closer to home. Closer to safety. And Tommy, oh Tommy. He should have paid more attention to him. He should have spent time with him, him </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wilbur! Maybe if he had done better, done </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his sons would be safe and they could all be home now. Maybe he wasn’t the father his sons had made him out to be back when they were all still young and had a shard of rose tinted glass still left to look at the world through. Maye Philza would have done them a better job if he had taken them to proper and better homes. Maybe they would have at least still been </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  <b></b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Philza wallowed in his own self pity and let his past regrets eat away at him, a freezing cold hand settled on his shoulder, slightly sinking into his shoulder. He looked over to the source with tired, puffy eyes to see Tommy look down at him with a mix of concern and sadness in his eyes. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>guilt</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Dad..I'm -I'm sorry. I didn't um. I didn't mean to be uh, like this. I did wanna live, I swear! I don't-..I don't know what happened...” Oh how that broke whatever was left of Philza’s poor heart. How could Tommy possibly blame himself for this? He reached his hand up and tried to hold onto Tommy’s only to have his hand phase right through it. He let out a half choked sob before shaking his head. “It’s not your fault Toms. You are </span>
  <b>not</b>
  <span> to blame for this, okay?” What he would give to hold onto Tommy and tell him how wrong he was to blame himself. If anyone was to blame, it was probably Philza himself.</span>
  <b></b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy looked like he didn't believe Philza and looked away, pulling his hand out of Philza’s. He had a distant look in his eyes as he crossed his arms and curled into himself, floating a bit off the ground. Philza wondered what was going on in his son's mind. Call it a parental instinct or whatever you like, but Philza could just tell something was wrong. Tommy wasn't one to act like this. While he knew that just Tommy being dead was wrong, his behavior completely out of the ordinary. He would need to investigate this further some other time. For now, he needed to just pull himself together and help his sons reach some sort of peace so they could all get some rest after all of the emotional stress that they had suddenly been put under.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took in a deep breath and turned to Technoblade, who was currently clinging onto him from his side and hiding his face in his shoulder. He rubbed Techno’s back comfortingly when he noticed Technoblade trembling slightly. He waited a minute before pulling away slightly, holding onto his shoulders. “Hey, you good mate?” He could not have chosen a worse question to ask, but he wasn't sure what else he could have asked. When he received a shake of the head, he nodded in understanding. Technoblade seemed unwilling to show his face still, letting his hair fall around his face to keep it out of view. H</span>
  <span>e stretched his wings out and wrapped one around Techno, leaning back against the bottom of the cupboards along the kitchen counters. He had no energy to even attempt to move them both somewhere more comfortable, so the cold kitchen floor would have to do for the time being. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There they sat, two men holding onto each other through the pain of losing another family member. Philza looked over to Tommy, catching his youngest looking away once he was noticed. He smiled tiredly and patted the space beside him, opening his other wing in an offer of comfort. Tommy only hesitated for a minute before floating over and sitting beside him. With Philza’s wing curled around him slightly, Tommy “rested” his cheek against his fathers shoulder (more like he was leaning towards Philza and held himself up so he didn't go through Phil). Philza sat there with his only living son and the ghost of his youngest. He felt numbness spread through his chest, almost as if it was spreading from where Tommy’s head was barely touching his own shoulder. How the hell was he supposed to do this? How was he going to help Technoblade process Tommy’s death when he himself could barely process it, even with his ghost sitting right beside him. He could feel murmurs slowly seeping into the back of his mind and pushed them away. They had been respectful up till now. He decided to block them out, needing more time to process the situation (he knew that it was impossible to quiet them for long, or even at all, but he just needed some time).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glanced over to Techno’s still form. He was either sleeping or too tired to continue crying and decided to just stay quiet. When he looked over to Tommy, he found that the boy was staring straight ahead. He looked absolutely exhausted. His eye bags looked to be deeper, his skin was paler, and his eyes were much duller now that he wasn't actively talking. It looked like he was thinking about something and staring at something that wasn't there. Philza looked away and let his head fall back against the cupboards, staring up at the ceiling. Prime have mercy on his soul. He didn't know what the next day would bring, nor did he know how he was going to manage to get them through it. <em>‘One step at a time,’</em> he thought to himself as he closed his eyes. ‘<em>Just one step at a time.'</em> With a new feeling of uncertainty and the weight of that day's events on his mind, Philza fell into an unrestful sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Finished editing this at 2:30 am, but worth it!! Glad I could get this out. This one was mostly done so the next update may take longer to get out since I'm trying to make each chapter at least 2k words. I wanna make this story good and long because I myself enjoy long fics. Enough rambling from me though, hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter! Till next time!!</p>
<p>Word Count: 2,780</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heyyy, hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter!! Fun fact: I refer to the story as GOOP bc its the abbreviation and I find it funny. Welp, see you guys when I post the next chapter! Warning: I have no set schedule for posting so it's usually whenever the chapter is ready. Kudos and comments are much appreciated! Thanks and bye for now!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>